William
by GlacierRat
Summary: This is the ending for Scully's Per Manum flashback.


__Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or the X-files. If I did, I'd be rich, not writing here.

_"I guess it was too much to hope for," Scully answered, her voice almost betraying her._

_ Shaking his head, Mulder reached out and pulled her into him, wanting more than anything just to give her comfort, to make her stop feeling sad. But his compassion was her undoing. As he held her together with strong arms, she came apart._

_ "It was my last chance." Her voice cracked and tore at him._

_ He closed his eyes against the pain of her words, and held her closer, tighter, rocking back and forth. Feeling her sniffle in his ear, he pulled back and kissed her on her forehead, sure that was all she would allow him, and rested his forehead against hers. _

_ "Never give up on a miracle," he told her, voice husky with emotion, thinking that he would do anything to make this happen for her._

_ Scully thanked him for the thought by kissing him on the corner of his mouth; if he had turned the slightest bit, he could have captured her lips with his. Why was he thinking that? She was so vulnerable right now, and he was thinking of kissing her? What a shit I am, he thought._

Mulder pulled her in against his shoulder again, feeling her soft, small hand against his nape, and tried to get control of his rampant thoughts. He held her tight, comforting, rocking, soothing her, soothing himself. He felt her breathing change from agitated to calm, as he ran his hand up and down her small back, marveling at how strong she was for such a small person. He stood there as long as he could, until it became evident to him that, if he didn't move soon, he would give himself away, as plastered to him as she was.

"Scully?"

"Mmm?"

"You should get some rest."

"Mulder?"

"Yeah?"

"Would you…" He could barely hear her.

"What, Scully? Anything you need."

"Would you stay a while, just hold me? I just need…"

"Sure, Scully. Anything…" he told her. But, inside, Mulder was yelling at himself, running away as fast as he could. _What are you doing?_ he screamed. He couldn't possibly agree to that!

She didn't resist as he steered her towards her bedroom. She seemed boneless, now. He sat her on the edge of her bed, and knelt before her on one knee to deal with her shoes. She was wearing a navy blue suit skirt in deference to her FBI position, but hadn't put on stockings due to the heat. Mulder reached behind her bare left ankle to slip the first pump off. It fell to the carpeted floor silently, and he reached for the second one. His right hand landed on her calf and Mulder found himself suddenly mesmerized by the soft silkiness of the skin there. His whole world condensed to that flawless skin. As he slipped the second shoe off, his right hand slid mindlessly upwards, the satin texture of her skin a lure, drawing him on, and he stopped breathing. When the sensitive tips of his fingers reached the perfect silk behind her knee, a loud buzzing filled his ears and he was suddenly aware of an alluring scent in the air. His nostrils flared to take it in and suddenly he was gulping air again. His left hand joined his right, desperate to partake of the sensations, and traveled down around her ankle, tracing out the delicate bones of her foot, and then moved up to join the other at her knee. His eyes feasted on the contrast between the brown of his fingers against the white of her perfect skin.

Suddenly, he was aware of the heavy sounds of breathing and of Scully's voice reaching him from outside of the fog he was in.

"Mulder." She was whispering, but it seemed so loud. The buzzing was gone, and he froze, suddenly aware that he was groping his partner's leg with an unseemly hunger. And it occurred to him that he shouldn't be doing this. His hands clenched on her knee, and he heard her gasp. And the sound of breathing was not his alone.

"Oh my god, Scully, I didn't…" He couldn't meet her eyes. Small, gentle hands were suddenly upon his own, hands that he had held through every trouble of the past seven years, sometimes comforting and sometimes being comforted. He stared at them helplessly.

"Shut up, Mulder." She was still whispering. Why was she whispering?

"Please look at me." Her hands left his, and he felt bereft, until he felt one on his hair, and the other on the side of his face. He closed his eyes and shut out the sight of his hands upon her leg.

Both small hands then cupped his raspy face, and Scully gently ran her hands over the day old beard, the roughness a perfect match for the tattered soul of the man inside. She waited.

Mulder still couldn't raise his eyes. He had never failed to look at her. Her clear blue gaze was always a beacon to him; it was like a lighthouse that drew him safely through whatever dangerous waters he sailed. But he couldn't let her see into his eyes now, because everything he felt for her was swimming right at the surface. She wouldn't be able to miss the unbearable hunger, the want and need, and the desperate, overpowering love that had sustained him these long years. He was shaking.

"Mulder." Another whisper. He couldn't stop himself, couldn't deny her anything; he had never been able to deny her anything. It was her strength and his weakness. He looked up and fell into the still blue ocean of her eyes.

"Oh, god, Mulder…" she said, as she took in every secret his muddy-river eyes spilled in the split second that stretched out before her into beautiful infinity. Her eyes widened, darkened, and now he drifted in them gratefully. She saw the hunger, yes, the want, and the need. Those were there, burning brightly, and she knew they were mirrored in her own eyes. She also saw guilt, and his self-depreciation. But, mostly, she saw respect, awe, reverence, and a love so truly monumental that she couldn't believe she had missed its very existence. She touched his face.

"I'm s-…"

"Mulder." His name was a sigh. She leaned forward and breathed it again with a faint touch of her lips to his. He closed his eyes, and gave himself up to the perfect sensation, his mind transported back to their brief first kiss at New Year's, and the beautiful smile it had left on Scully's face. He wasn't sure if his lips were trembling, or if it was hers. "If you say you're sorry," touch, "I'll shoot you." His lips curved up at that one. She leaned away from him, to his intense disappointment, his eyes opened again, and he found her looking at him intently. Her eyes told a story he hadn't dared to hope for. She told him helplessly, "I've loved you for so long." The pain of joy that burst in him suddenly became too large to contain. It clawed at his chest and at his eyes, and it ripped out of him in a sound like a laughing sob, as he closed his eyes and tried to hold back the tears that formed like daggers behind his lids.

Scully fell forward to her knees before him, leaning against his chest, catching the sound with her mouth against his, adding to it with a whimper of her own. Moisture mingled on their cheeks, his tears and hers, as he lost that battle, and she didn't even bother to begin her own. He caught her body to his, molding her to him completely. Lips meshed, as if they knew where they belonged, although they had met but once, long ago. As Scully wrapped her arms around his narrow waist and pulled his lower body into hers, Mulder thrust his long fingers into the flames of her warm hair and angled her mouth to his liking. He plundered her lips as he had imagined doing every day since they had met so many, many years ago. God! She tasted so sweet. She met his tongue, thrust for thrust, and nibbled at his lips with sharp teeth, pulling and then soothing. His coarse, unshaven cheek scuffed roughly at her chin and made her moan in approval, and he rumbled back at the low noise from her, their sounds a new language between them that they both instantly understood.

Scully's fingers encountered a strip of smooth skin between Mulder's shirt and waistband that ignited an instant inferno in her. Suddenly desperate, she reached between them and grasped at the hem of his black shirt, stripping it unexpectedly upward over his head, and then quickly reclaiming his lips, unwilling to miss a second, now that the barrier had been breached. Hands greedily ran over the chest she had admired on many occasions, had been cradled against on so many others, and she dragged her nails down through the light coating of hair.

He pushed her away from him, gazing at her in some amazement. She had a look on her face that he had no idea she was capable of producing, and he thought he had seen every expression she had ever made. She looked feral, and her eyes had turned a stormy grey. Her tongue was in the corner of her parted lips, which shone with their combined wetness, as she studied him intently. She ran her eyes over his ruffled hair, and her small hands along the muscles of his shoulders and biceps, humming her approval. Her exploration continued as her hands encountered the smooth, tight muscles of his ribcage and she splayed her hands there, feeling his out-of-control breathing, a match for her own, before running her hands around to his back to explore the tense furrow of his spine. She leaned forward to lick the hard line of his collar bone, and to suck her way gently up his neck towards his ear to the rough accompaniment of the long, deep groan that started low in his diaphragm. She slid her hands lower and was thwarted by the presence of his jeans from further exploration, but she cupped his hard ass through his clothing anyway, as she had imagined doing a thousand times before, and pulled him hard against her pelvis, grinding against him fiercely.

"SSSSScully!" Mulder hissed and grasped her wrists with large, strong hands and pushed her further away from him. The eyes that flew back to his were dazed with sexual hunger, and almost angry at the interruption. He stood and hauled her up by the wrists, never breaking eye contact, backed her up to the bed, pushed her down onto it, and let go of her wrists.

"Take that off," he demanded shakily, not trusting himself to tackle her flimsy dark blouse without shredding it.

"Take what off?" she asked, looking into fiery eyes that were now jade with his passion. She ran the backs of her fingers lightly down the middle of his chest to the button of his jeans, and then kept going down over the fly, which was already full with his arousal. He gasped with the sensation.

"The blouse, Scully. Get rid of it." He managed, barely able to breathe. Her scent was intoxicating, and her touch was going to kill him. He watched her reach for the buttons on the sheer dark fabric. He could feel his heart speeding up. "Jesus." She was going way too slowly. He reached out, and she slapped his hands away.

"Stop. You're too impatient, Mulder." She worked at the buttons. He could see the dark bra underneath, scalloped on the edges. When the buttons were undone, he abandoned his plan to wait and shoved the blouse off of her shoulders, growling and flinging it across the room. He kneeled beside her on the bed and reclaimed her lips for a moment, before moving down her jaw line to her ear, and then to her graceful neck and white shoulder. Pushing the bra strap aside, he opened his mouth and left a wet trail on his way down the slope of her shoulder, before giving up all pretense. He cupped her breast and suckled her through the bra, listening to her gasp with satisfaction. He bit gently as he felt the nipple harden, and then he pushed the bra out of the way completely, pulling the firm bit of rose-colored flesh fully into his mouth, groaning with satisfaction and with need. He wriggled painfully as his jeans tightened more, and felt Scully grasp him firmly through his jeans.

"Gah—" It was suddenly absolutely imperative that his clothes were gone, and Mulder catapulted from the bed to accomplish the task. His hands were shaking with desperation and he tried three times to get the button fly to release, before Scully took pity on him. She knelt before him, half undressed, holding his eyes with a smoldering look that heated him almost to flames, and unbuttoned his jeans for him. She slid them down his slim hips along with his boxer briefs, thrilling at the feel of her hands on the tight forbidden skin of his hips, and let him accomplish the rest while she boldly looked him up and down. When he rejoined her on the bed, she had divested herself of her remaining clothing, except for the tiniest scrap of underwear. It caught his attention, and he slid his hand down to investigate.

Her breath came out on one long exhale, as his large hand made its way down her slender torso. He had lifted her, carried her, held her, and even bodily thrown her from time to time, but he still couldn't believe how small she was. He could almost reach from hipbone to hipbone with one hand. He skimmed his hand across the pale surface and felt her skin skitter in response. He looked into her eyes again, and knew that it didn't matter that she was smaller than him; she was a thousand times stronger, and he would do anything she wanted. She reached up behind his neck and pulled him down to her hungry lips. He obliged her need by swiping his tongue over the bottom lip and then sucking on it gently. His reward was a drawn-out moan that gave him a shiver.

Her hands were everywhere. She was making up for seven years of wanting. She had wanted to touch Mulder for every one of those years. At first it had been simple animal attraction. Then, it had blossomed into this desperate need to feel close to the man she loved, in any way possible. She had reigned it in, though, resigning herself to grasping his hand, briefly touching his face or hair to comfort him, or letting him hold her when she couldn't control her need to be comforted. She knew that if she let herself start touching him like this, this uncontrolled passion was where it would go. Now, though…_now_, god! His shoulders, so wide and hard, his chest, his arms, his face with those lips made to kiss, his silky soft hair, his hands, his washboard stomach, his narrow hips, his ass, god almighty! She could spend weeks just exploring his ass!

Mulder left her lips and returned to her breasts, drawing each bud deep into his warm mouth, leaving a whisker burn behind with an accompanying gasp, and then worked his way down her tight abdomen, licking and sucking as he went. He dipped his tongue into her navel, and tickled her hipbones again, before tracing the edges of her almost-there panties with his tongue and breath. By this time, she was panting her desire loudly, begging for him to take her panties off and touch her.

"Mulder, god, please!"

"Are you calling me a god?"

"I'm calling you anything you want me to call you! God! Touch me!"

"Like this?" He ran a finger lightly between her parted legs on the outside of the silky panties.

"NO!"

"Like this?" He slipped his hand under the panties, into the curls beneath, but not far enough.

"NO, NO!"

"Tell me, then."

She grasped his hand in one of hers and pulled her panties aside with the other. She thrust his fingers into her dripping folds as she arched into his hand, crying out, "AAHHH!"

"Geeeez, Scully!" He breathed, and took it from there, pushing his fingers deep, finding the spot that kept her moaning. He was quickly becoming addicted to this sound from her. He stopped momentarily to divest her of the panties, which were in the way, and then he spread her folds and added his tongue to the dance. The pitch of her keening went higher with the addition and he found that he quite liked the new sound. With an expertise that was more instinct than practice, he brought her to a peak that left her quivering and boneless, and he lay with his head cushioned between her hips, inhaling the intoxicating scent of her sex and listening to her breathing quiet, while she stopped shaking. She had her fingers entwined in his hair still, and was stroking his head like a puppy, which, oddly enough, he was enjoying. It was soothing, after she had nearly pulled it out moments before.

"Mulder." As her tummy moved with her breathing, his rough cheek stroked her over-sensitized skin and it was winding her up again; her breathing quickened.

"Mmm?" The near-growl just about put her over the edge.

"Oh, my god, Mulder, I'm not finished with you yet." She shivered as she ran the silky strands of his hair through her fingers.

"Shit. Really?"

"Funny." She felt him laughing against her tummy, and she tightened her grip in his hair, pulling upward. "Get up here."

"Ow, woman." He went, because he didn't have much choice, but he would have gone anywhere she asked him too. He found it was worth it, though, because Scully kissed him when he got there. He lost himself in the perfect softness of her swollen lips, and touched her tongue gently with his own, a promise, a request, a selfish indulgence.

"Mmm. Mulder, you taste like …"

"You?" He suddenly rolled her over on top of him, so she was sitting on top of his painfully hard erection. That she was incredibly slippery was helping quite a lot. He put his hands in her hair and pulled her down to him again, rubbing his lips back and forth on hers, now and again taking the time to moisten them with his tongue. She braced herself with her hands on his strong shoulders and copied the movement below, until he moaned into her mouth. Leaving her to drive above, he slide his hands down to her hips and guided her back and forth over his hard form until he couldn't stand it any more. Then he lifted her slight figure up higher and broke contact with her mouth. Looking deep into her eyes, her positioned her over his waiting shaft, and pushed her down at the same moment he thrust slowly upward. They both moaned out an amazed, protracted sound at the same time, and never broke eye contact.

"Scuuuullly!"

"Muuuulllder!"

He lifted her to repeat the motion again, and watched Scully's eyelids drift closed. He studied her beloved features and noticed things he had never seen. Her nostrils flared in the heat of passion. There was the same line of concentration between her eyes, as when she studied evidence through a magnifying glass, but it was infinitely sexier when she was flushed. The freckles on her nose and cheeks were fainter in the presence of that flush. She leaned forward and laid on his chest, changing their angle, and suddenly causing him to groan with the sensation.

"Scully –"

"Mmm?"

"Do that again—" She complied, and he felt his blood pressure rise. He gripped her hips, and urged her to continue. They found a mutually satisfying rhythm, murmuring occasional suggestions to each other, neither failing to assent to the other's counsel. Scully's nipples dragged back and forth on Mulder's chest, and the friction created by his chest hair drove her nearly mad. He lifted her up slightly and brought one peak to his hot mouth, tonguing the nipple, then nipping it, then suckling it.

"Jesus, Mulder, uh—" His ministrations made her ride him harder in response, and he pushed her hips faster. Her hands went into his hair and kept his mouth on her breast, moving it to the other one only when she thought she couldn't stand it any more.

Breathing got ragged and faster as they ran together towards the cliff. Finally, they closed their eyes, and willingly dove over the edge, falling together with a single hoarse cry and landing in a sweating heap, senseless and sated.

Mulder listened to his partner's even breathing, enjoying the slight weight of her collapsed on top of him. He was sure she was asleep. Her heavy hair lay in a silken sheet that covered his neck and chest, and he moved his hand the two inches it took to touch it. It seemed a monumental task, but the need to put his hand through that fiery shower outweighed the effort it took to inch his hand upward. He rolled the strands between his thumb and fingers and sighed.

"Ah, Scully," he whispered, "I've loved you forever, too. What the hell were we waiting for?"

"I don't know, Mulder," she answered. "We've wasted so much time."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. I was sort-of talking to myself."

"Telling yourself that you love me?"

"Thought I'd practice first, you know, on an easy subject."

"I'm easy," Scully told him.

"Scully, it took me seven years to get you here. You are anything but easy." He eased the words by tightening his grip on her and holding her closer.

"Some rest you're getting."

"This is better. And you're going to be amazed at how easy I am, now that you've got me here. You might get sick of how easy I am." She reached for the comforter, which had been a casualty of their gymnastics, and pulled it up over them to make a warm nest.

"Never, Scully, not in a million years."


End file.
